


don't need a map to tell me where you are

by perfectlyrose



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dreamwalking, Fluff, Galra Keith (Voltron), M/M, Romance, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 15:04:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17003916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlyrose/pseuds/perfectlyrose
Summary: Shiro lives a second life in his dreams, one that he shares with Keith. If Keith were real, Shiro is sure he'd be in love with him.When Shiro makes a detour to the planet Marmora while on a deep space supply run, he gets the surprise of his life and a chance at love he never expected.





	don't need a map to tell me where you are

**Author's Note:**

> me: writes self indulgent soulmate fluff as a s8 palate cleanser

Shiro dreams. 

Most mornings he wakes with just a hazy nonsense image fading on the back of his eyelids like anyone else, but at least once a week his dreams are, for lack of a better word, different.

Sharp and vivid as any high-end holoscreen, these dreams are a full sensory experience. He wakes from them with the taste of yulipa juice heavy on his tongue and the scent of smoke in his nostrils, sometimes. The laughter that echoes in his ears is what haunts him the most. He’s heard it in his dreams since he was eighteen but never in his waking hours.

_ “Shut up, Shiro! It’s not the same stove I’m used to!” He says, laughing as he tries to get the pan of some kind of sauce to stop smoking. _

_ “Looks like my stove,” Shiro observes. _

_ “Then you should know how to work it.” _

_ Shiro raises an eyebrow and feels a smile slide onto his face. “I’m barely allowed to enter my own kitchen, much less use the stove. My landlord almost made it a clause in my lease when I renewed.” _

_ Keith stares at him, violet eyes wide in surprise. “Seriously?” _

_ “I’m not trustworthy in any culinary endeavors that don’t involve microwaves,” he says. “Was looking forward to whatever you were making. I had a couple of peanut butter sandwiches for dinner.” _

_ “Next time we’re doing this somewhere where I know the oven controls,” Keith says, squinting at him. _

_ “Deal,” Shiro says. He stands and goes to stand behind Keith at the stove, leaning down to be able to rest his chin on his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his waist. He loves the way the smaller man seems to fit perfectly against him. “Can I still try this?” _

_ “It’s burnt!” _

_ Shiro pouts. “It still smells good!” _

_ “You’re so weird.” _

_ He is laughing when Shiro reaches around him for the spoon and tastes the burnt sauce. _

The dreams feature the same man every time. Shiro constantly thanks and curses his subconscious for conjuring him up. Slim with whipcord muscles, the top of his head tucks right under Shiro’s chin. His eyes are the same color of desert twilight back on Earth and his hair is a silky inkspill mess. Two dark purple markings curve over his cheeks, contrasting against the delicate lavender of his skin, tapering to a point under each eye. Shiro has traced his eyes along the line of them down over the curve of his jaw and backwards until they disappear under the collar of his shirt around the join of his shoulder countless times.

Shiro thinks he’s beautiful. The rasp of his laugh and hint of gravel in his voice and all the jagged edges that even sleep-soaked dreams don’t seem to dull are all gorgeous to him.

He’s pretty sure that his literal dream guy is part Galra, based on the purple skin and markings and the slightly sharpened teeth he glimpses sometimes. There aren’t many Galra in the sectors of space that Shiro’s supply routes go through, so he isn’t certain.

Some days Shiro wishes he could draw so he could see Keith’s face during his waking hours.

_ “I’m already asleep, why am I tired?” Keith complains. He flops down on the sofa, stretching out and pillowing his head on his hands. He closes his eyes. “Wonder if I can sleep in a dream or if that’s too…” _

_ “Meta?” Shiro offers. _

_ Keith cracks an eye open, smirk quirking up the corner of his mouth. “Yeah.” _

_ Shiro loves seeing Keith all relaxed like this. “So, should I see if I can find you a blanket?” _

_ “No, come be my pillow.” Keith sits up and pats the cushion where his head was. _

_ Shiro snorts and does as he’s asked. As soon as he’s settled, Keith shifts onto his side and pillows his cheek on Shiro’s thigh. He lets out a content sigh. _

_ Cautious, Shiro lowers a hand to Keith’s hair, tangling his fingers in the silky strands. It’s even softer than he’s imagined. “This okay?” _

_ Keith makes a content sound and cuddles in closer. “Yes.” _

_ Shiro keeps combing his fingers through his hair, amused when a purr kicks up in Keith’s chest. _

_ He wishes he could stay here in this moment forever. _

Shiro reaches down and rubs a thumb over his hipbone, where his soulmark lies inert and grey -- the silhouette of a lioness stalking something. He wonders when, if, he’ll find the person with the matching mark. He feels guilty knowing that he’ll compare whoever it is to Keith, even though Keith only exists in his head.

(He knows he’d choose Keith over his soulmate if it was an option and tries not to dwell on it.)

He shakes his head at himself and focuses on the stretch of open space in front of him. He’s making good time on this supply run. He probably has enough leeway to set down on one of these planets for a quick break and adventure and still get to his rendezvous on time.

He lays in a course for the smallest planet on his scanner, Marmora, according to his nav system, and adjusts his heading. Two vargas until he approaches atmosphere. He settles back to wait.

_ “Who are you?” The question is almost hissed, causing Shiro to spin around to see who was talking. He automatically drops into a fighting stance as he turns, unsure if his companion is a threat. _

_ There’s a boy with his back pressed against the wall, a couple years younger than Shiro and skinny in the way unique to adolescents. Shiro’s just starting to shed that look himself. He’s coiled tight as a spring, ready to launch himself into a fight if need be. _

_ “I’m Shiro. Who are you?” _

_ The boy narrows his eyes and brushes his bangs out of his face in an impatient motion. “Keith.” _

_ “Nice to meet you, Keith,” Shiro offers, straightening out of his ready stance. “Any idea where we are?” _

_ Keith is wary as he studies Shiro. “We’re dreaming, I think.” _

_ “Huh. Never had a lucid dream before,” Shiro muses. “Could be fun.” _

_ Something flashes in Keith’s twilight eyes but it’s gone before Shiro can hope to decipher it. _

Thinking back to that first meeting when Keith had been so suspicious makes Shiro smile. It had taken two months worth of dreams for his guard to really start coming down. That was six years ago. 

They’re easy with each other now. There are moments when he wakes with the sensation of Keith’s form pressed against him or the lingering phantom of fingers brushing against his that he wishes that he could kiss Keith. His subconscious seems to have him on a slow burn romance that may never be more than the strong friendship they share now. 

Shiro wonders though, what Keith tastes like, if his markings are sensitive and if it would be rude for Shiro to trace them with his tongue and see how far down they go. The thought of Keith has fueled many a waking fantasy.

_ Shiro drinks in the sight of Keith in a black t-shirt that looks a size too small and sweatpants that are barely hanging onto his hips. His hair is pulled back into a small ponytail, escaped strands framing his face. _

_ Keith tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, face flushing a darker purple. “Sorry, I fell asleep right after my workout.” _

_ “It’s fine,” Shiro rushes to assure him. “You, um, you look good.” _

_ Keith rolls his eyes and heads towards the basket set off in the corner of the room they’re in today. Shiro stares after him, barely trying to be subtle as he takes in the small scars that litter Keith’s arms and then focuses in on where a sliver of skin is showing between the hem of his shirt and his sweatpants. _

_ “Mmm, I was hoping there was food in here,” Keith say, snapping Shiro out of his increasingly heated thoughts. “More snack food than meal food but I’ll take what I can get.” _

_ He cranes his neck and looks up at Shiro. “Hungry?” _

His ship beeps at him, informing him that he is about to enter the atmosphere of Marmora. He makes sure his coms are on in case anyone on-planet tries to contact him and then guides ship through entry procedures.

Shiro lands his pod on what appears to be a deserted set of cliffs. Marmora is a craggy planet, mostly rock and water with scant pockets of vegetation. He doesn’t know if there are actual inhabitants or not but no one’s shot at him yet so he locks down his ship, throws his travel bag over his shoulder and exits the ship.

He makes it five yards away from his ship when someone tackles him, sending them both sprawling to the unforgiving rock. Shiro reacts on instinct, using what little momentum he has to try and roll and get his assailant beneath him.

They’re dressed in a black combat suit with purple markings, face covered and they’re fast and stronger than they look. Shiro pulls against the hold on his right wrist with everything he has, banking on the extra power in the prosthetic to catch his opponent off guard.

Their grip slips for a moment and Shiro’s heart soars but then his wrist is being slammed down into the ground. A knee presses into his back, keeping him pinned face down on the rock surface.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” The voice is distorted, like the mask has a built in vocal disguiser. Shiro would be impressed if he wasn’t annoyed at someone getting the drop on him.

Shiro grunts instead of answering and the knee pushes down harder. “Who are you and what are you doing on Marmora?”

“I’m not here to harm anyone. Just wanted to do some sightseeing since I had a handful of extra vargas on my hands,” Shiro says, working to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

Suddenly his assailant releases him, letting go of his wrists and scrambling to their feet. Shiro turns over, rubbing at his wrists as he looks up to try to figure out what exactly was happening. People who attack before asking questions don’t usually let their catch go so easily.

His assailant hit a hidden catch on the side of their mask. It flickered and disappeared. The man quickly pushed down his hood, revealing his face for the first time

Shiro feels like he’s been punched in the gut as he takes in a very familiar pair of twilight-colored eyes staring back at him.

“Shiro?” Without the voice distortion, Shiro knows that specific timbre immediately.

“K-keith?” No one else said his name and made it sound like a prayer. “How?”

_ Shiro rubs at his arm, surprised that the prosthetic came into the dream with him. It’s still new and he’s unaccountably nervous for Keith to see it. _

_ “I was worried about you,” the other man says, approaching Shiro slowly. “You were out of touch for two months. I couldn’t reach you at all.” _

_ “Was in a medically induced coma for a while,” Shiro says. “Ship I was in malfunctioned and crashed.” _

_ Keith rushes to close the space between them now, hands cupping Shiro’s face and turning it side to side as if he’s checking for more injuries. He absently wonders if the scar cutting across his nose followed him here too. _

_ Keith traces a light finger across the bridge of his nose and that answers that question. _

_ “I’m so glad you’re okay.” His voice is rougher than normal.  _

_ This close, Shiro can see the exhaustion stamped on the skin beneath Keith’s eyes. He moves to roll up his right sleeve, having to disrupt Keith’s contact with his face in the process. _

_ The metal gleams in the low light of the room. Keith sucks in a breath. He glances between his hand and his face, seeking permission. _

_ Shiro swallows hard and nods. _

_ Keith’s first touch is feather light, barely registering on the sensors. _

_ “Can you feel that?” _

_ “Yeah. It’s Altea Tech’s latest experimental model. Does touch and heat and the whole shebang.” _

_ Keith trails his fingers over the inside of Shiro’s wrist, where his pulse used to be, and then grips Shiro’s hand. The metal hand is so much bigger than Keith’s and Shiro is overly gentle as he folds his fingers over Keith’s. _

_ “Does it hurt?” _

_ “Sometimes.” What use was there lying in a dream? _

_ “Can… can you still fly?” Keith’s voice is small. He knows how much flying means to Shiro. _

_ “Should be able to,” Shiro says, smile finally finding its way onto his face. “Not medically cleared yet, but should be soon.” _

_ Keith squeezes his hand. “Good.” _

“Can we have this discussion inside?” Keith asks. He offers Shiro a hand up. 

Shiro takes it, never letting his gaze move from Keith’s face. He has no idea how he’s real or what’s going on but Keith’s even more beautiful in person.

“In my ship or wherever you came from?”

Keith looks over his shoulder and grimaces. “Is there anyone else on your ship?”

Shiro shakes his head.

“Then let’s go there. I think this will be a conversation better had in private.”

Keith doesn’t let go of his hand as Shiro moves towards his ship and unlocks it.

“What’s going on?” Shiro asks as soon as they’re seated on the floor of his cargo hold. He’s still clutching at Keith’s hand. He’s half afraid that if he lets go Keith will disappear on the next breeze, that this is another dream. “I thought you were…”

“A dream?” Keith finishes, sounding pained. “I’m sorry, I should’ve explained. I just… it seemed easier not to at first and then I didn’t want to complicate things.”

His shoulders hike up towards his ears as he talks. Shiro squeezes his hand.

“Explain now?” He asks gently.

Keith takes a deep breath. “Do you know anything about the Galra soulmate conventions?”

Shiro racks his brain and then shakes his head.

“Soulmates are somewhat rare these days but those who have one,” he pauses and catches Shiro’s eyes, nerves clear in his violet gaze, “dreamwalk with each other.”

Shiro feels like this should be more surprising than it is. “So, we’re soulmates?” He asks, trying not to get his hopes up. His head is spinning with the fact that Keith is real and Keith is here and Keith is beautiful and strong and even more amazing than he is in their dreams.

Keith nods, shoulders tense. He looks like he’s bracing for an angry outburst or rejection.

A grin breaks out over Shiro’s face. “I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have as a soulmate,” he admits. “I thought you weren’t real and you were still my best friend.”

Keith’s smile is a cautious thing, like he’s still unsure of his welcome. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

“I think it’s all working out alright,” Shiro says. He reaches out and cups Keith’s cheek with one gloved hand, thumb tracing over his marking there. “Can… can I kiss you? I’ve wanted to for so long.”

“Could’ve done it any time,” Keith says, the teasing tone Shiro has only ever heard in his head making itself known.

Shiro pitches forward and presses his lips to Keith’s, a little too hard and overeager on both of their parts. He’s trying to shift it into something softer when he feels heat bloom on his hip.

Shiro pulls away in shock. The same look is on Keith’s face.

“Did you feel that?” Shiro asks. He’s already pulling his own shirt up to see the soulmark on his hip. The lioness has darkened to a deep black edged in red and his heart feels ready to beat out of his chest. He shows Keith. “Human soulmark, activated by the first skin to skin contact between soulmates”

Keith presses gentle fingers to the lioness on Shiro’s skin and then moves his hand to the same spot on his own body. “I can’t show you in this suit but I felt mine change too.”

“You have one too?”

“My dad was human,” Keith says with a shy smile. “Guess mixed heritage means double the soulmate confirmation.”

Shiro leans forward for another kiss. Keith’s eyes are closed when they finally pull away from each other. Shiro uses the pad of his thumb to trace from the top of one of Keith’s mark down over the sharp curve of his jaw until it meets the high collar of his combat suit.

Keith shivers.

“Been dreaming about tracing these with my tongue,” Shiro admits, face turning red.

He hears the hitch in Keith’s breathing and then he’s being kissed again and Keith’s hands are in his hair. Keith pulls back before Shiro has much chance to respond.

“I love you,” Keith blurts out, flushing. “I know we just met in person for the first time but…”

“I love you, too,” Shiro says, cutting him off before the ramble could get going. “Do you know how much your dream visits have kept me going, Keith? You’ve saved me so many times.”

Keith pulls in a deep breath. “We’ve saved each other, I think.”

“Think you’re going to save me even more in the future if you cook as well in the real world as you do in our dreams.”

“Takashi,” Keith starts, tone all fond exasperation. Shiro shivers. No one’s used his given name in years, even when he told Keith he could. It sounds right on his tongue. “You eat anything. You liked that burnt sauce and whatever it was that I put salt in instead of sugar. You like  _ yulipa juice _ . No one likes yulipa juice.”

Shiro laughs at the scrunched up look on Keith’s face. “That’s why it’s so cheap. And it’s good!”

“I’m making you brush your teeth before you kiss me whenever you drink it,” Keith warns.

Laughter spills out of Shiro again and this time Keith joins in. Shiro likes it even better echoing around in the full cargo hold than he had in dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> find me ignoring almost the entirety of s8 on [twitter](http://twitter.com/LionessNapping) and [tumblr](http://perfectlyrose.tumblr.com)


End file.
